deepundergroundpoetry.com

Lost it all

It seems too surreal
never you thought
that I'd be taught

'O the tales of love and hate

Should it matter,
I sold my soul
bet against the Devil
I lost
He won

Now I'm in never-ending pain
blood on the floor
throat all scratched from screaming
my son, my poor son: the anti-christ

he hates me, that he does. He should have been
a better son, he could have been a better son...
But drowning him in wells, and liting him on fire didn't sit well with daddy, "run mommy run!"

We all go to Hell.

I lost it, lost it all
while I shout
there is no doubt
for what happens behind his doors,

for my son is all the proof you need...........